by Bella Andre
“Wait,” she said, still trying to process the news. “How could he know about my rams?”
“I went over to your place to take pictures this morning after my plane arrived. Before my meeting with him.” He pulled a photo from his inside breast pocket and slid it across the table.
Her head was spinning as she said, “I’ve never heard of the hotel.”
“It’s almost completed. And it’s going to be a palace. Everyone pulling into the circular drive and heading to registration will see your rams battling for supremacy of the garden.”
Her head felt as though she were on a Tilt-a-Whirl at the thought that her sculpture would be seen from the road, not only by visitors to the hotel. “But how is that even possible? Especially if you only just took the pictures this morning?”
“I’ve been keeping my ears open. And visualizing what I want for you. I can see your whole path already, just how acclaimed you’re going to be.”
“I know you keep saying that, but—”
“You saw your dragon outside the church in Chinatown, from the minute you walked by and the vision came to you. And then you went into the parish office and sold it to them because you knew it had to be there. So you made them see it too.”
“That was your meeting today?” He was probably expecting her to jump up and down with happiness. And she would. After the shock had worn off. Because she’d never honestly thought her rams would ever leave her property, especially not to grace the entrance of a fancy hotel. Reminding herself that it was great news, she added, “The one you mentioned on the phone last night.”
“Should I have brought you, Charlie?” He looked worried, obviously having noticed that she wasn’t jumping for joy just yet. “Should I have told you that I was meeting with a big hotel about your art?”
She wasn’t at all upset that he hadn’t included her when she’d have been a nervous wreck. It was tough selling herself. The only time she’d ever done it was with the dragon, and even then she’d known she wasn’t going to charge them a thing for it.
“Maybe next time I should go, just to try to get more comfortable with it all.” Even the idea of it made her feel more than a little nauseous, but if she was going to swim in the big pond, she’d have to get used to fancy meetings with fancy people, wouldn’t she? She held back a shudder at the thought and finally made herself smile. “But today, I’m glad you simply showed up with good news. Thank you. For everything.”
He covered her hand, his heat streaking through her, deep inside and all the way to her heart. “I believe in what you create. I want everyone to see it.” He gave her a wry grin. “You haven’t even asked how much.”
“I’m afraid to.” She was half serious about that. More than half.
“Don’t be.” He grinned again as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a check. “Fifty thousand.”
The bottom dropped out of her stomach and she felt herself plunging fifty thousand feet as she took the check from him. The work had been done months ago. It was almost like free money. Free money she tried to tell herself her work deserved—and that it hadn’t all just come about because Walter Braedon wanted to impress Sebastian with his purchase. She’d never been insecure before, and Sebastian was endlessly telling her how great her work was. But she’d never envisioned truly wealthy people ever liking sculptures made from transformed junk.
“I figured the rams were a less complicated project than the chariot and horses,” he explained. “But the decision is up to you. We can still negotiate for more money.”
“No,” she said almost sharply. “I’ll take it.” And all the extra months at Magnolia Gardens that she could give her mother. Because in the end, that was what it was all about, wasn’t it? Having the resources to take care of her mother in the best possible way. But it was also about Sebastian’s incredible support for her and her art. “Thank you. For believing in me.”
“You’re worth more than you could ever imagine, Charlie, and soon everyone’s going to know it.”
The next step was obvious, even for someone as non-commercially minded as she was: The more she created, the more Sebastian could sell for her. Sometimes she needed a break from one project when the juices weren’t flowing right, and she let her subconscious mull over the problem while she turned her hand to something else, which meant that even while she was building the chariot and horses, she’d still be able to work on a few smaller projects.
She had a moment of hesitation at the thought of becoming a mass production line. But she already knew what Sebastian would say to that—that she was being self-defeating, letting fear of success and the unknown get the better of her. Besides, she would never let herself turn into a sculpture factory. So why was she still borrowing trouble? She needed to shoo away all these storm clouds that kept gathering over her, when from anyone’s vantage point her life was getting better and better by the second.
“Braedon’s staging a grand opening gala in three weeks. He wants us there, and you’ll be the celebrated artist.”
“Me?” For all her self-talk about not letting fear get the better of her, the fear came roaring back in an instant.
“I want to show you off.”
“I thought you wanted to show off the rams?”
“You’re a package deal. You created magnificence and you are magnificent.”
For a moment, it felt as though the reflection in his gaze belonged to the woman he wanted to see, not necessarily the woman she was. She liked simple things, and while she stood up in front of others all the time as a teacher, she definitely wasn’t used to the kind of attention he was talking about. She’d seen pictures of him on the Internet, the glittery world he walked in, the beautiful women dressed to the nines with sculpted figures and salon-bred features.
Whereas she was just Charlie, a tomboy.
But Sebastian was now her patron and he walked in a world she wasn’t prepared for. Which meant she’d better start preparing now. Because Lord knew she didn’t have a single thing to wear.
And after everything he’d already done for her and her mother, the last thing she wanted was to disappoint him in any way.
* * *
As Charlie took the time to read carefully through the contract for her rams, Sebastian could easily visualize her dressed in haute couture and covered in jewels. She would outshine anyone in San Francisco society circles.
“It looks good,” she said when she finished reading, then took the pen he handed her.
He appreciated that she hadn’t just scribbled her signature without reading it the way most people would have. Still, he couldn’t help but notice that her normally steady hand shook slightly as she signed. Susan’s words suddenly came back to him: I wonder if you should be careful how hard you push her.
But making a sale for Charlie wasn’t pushing, it was helping. He knew the difference. After all, hadn’t he helped hundreds of thousands of people in the past twenty years? Then again, Charlie was more important than anyone else had ever been.
When he looked up at her again, he realized she’d finished signing the contract, slipped the $50,000 check into her bag, and was staring at him. “Is everything okay, Sebastian?”
“Now it is.” Pushing away the doubts that had no business hanging over them tonight, he stood, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet—wanting to sweep her away. She was as spicy as the fajitas, her bare shoulders shimmering in the sundress. “I missed you,” he whispered. He took her mouth with a long, sweet kiss, then pulled back and raised a wicked eyebrow. “You made a lot of innuendoes on the phone last night, about hot tubs and no swimsuit.”
“Mmm,” she purred. “I checked the tub earlier, and the temperature is perfect. I like it hot.” The t sizzled on her tongue.
She pivoted out of his arms and headed to the sliding glass door. On the deck, she slipped out of her sandals. He balanced himself in the doorway, hands on either side of the frame, his heart beating like native drums pounding out t
he rhythm of a sensual dance. Though they’d been taking it slow, she had to know how badly he wanted to feel every inch of her skin against his, to sink inside her, to hold her as he fell asleep and wake up clutching her tightly against him.
She flipped on the timer and bubbles rumbled up from the tub’s jets. Grabbing a clip off the poolside table, she raised her arms to wind her hair into a knot that she secured in back. Sebastian found everything about her utterly erotic. Her dress still on, she stepped down into the water. “Perfect.”
His suit jacket was way too hot against his skin. He’d kept it on because he’d had Braedon’s check in his pocket, and he’d wanted to present it to her as if he were a hunter arriving home with a kill for his queen.
“Are you coming in?” Water frothed at the hem of her dress. Leaning over, she wet her fingers, then flicked them at him. Her playful smile tucked itself close to his heart.
“You first,” he said, his voice harsh in his throat.
He silently willed her to strip off her dress. He’d never wanted anything so badly in his life—to see her glistening skin, her round breasts, smooth abdomen, and every treasure he’d dreamed of night after night.
Her smile was as seductive as Cleopatra enslaving Mark Antony. She curled her fingers into the dress’s hem and teased it up even as she took another step down. She pulled it up, up, up and over her head as she sank into the swirling tub. He had a glimpse of pearled nipples and creamy skin before she tossed the dress on the deck and covered herself to the neck in bubbling water.
“Cheat,” he said.
She laughed, the husky sound that drove him nuts. God, he wanted her. Her sweetness, her laughter, her heat. She was gorgeously naked in all that bubbling water. He didn’t know if he had the capacity to join her without simply falling on her and taking everything he’d tortured himself with in the dark of the night. He almost couldn’t remember why he hadn’t already taken her to heaven. Could almost forget about his past, about needing to avoid toxic love at all costs. On top of that, he didn’t want the sale of the rams to have anything to do with this moment.
Yet none of those reasons could stop him from kicking off his shoes and socks and tugging off his jacket. Buttons popped, skittered across the deck, and fell through the slats as he tossed his shirt. His pants came next and he kicked them aside before walking down into the water to join her, still wearing his boxers.
“Now who’s the cheat?” she murmured softly above the churning water.
“Two can play that game.” His hand reached out to her as if something else controlled him.
She floated to him. Then she was straddling him. The water was hot, steam rising, the stars overhead bright and shining down on her, turning her eyes a deep glittering green.
“Sebastian,” she whispered, all the teasing suddenly gone.
She framed his face in her hands and lowered her mouth to his. His fingers flexed on the smooth skin of her hips, pulling her tightly against him. She rocked as she kissed him, sent him out of his mind with her lips, her tongue, the core of her body. Then he roamed, the pads of his fingers all over her pliable flesh. He caressed from her hips, down her thighs, and back up, close to her center, then traced her belly, her breasts, her shoulders, and back to her nipples. She moaned into his mouth as he played with the tips, teasing, flicking, pinching lightly.
She was hotter than the water, burning him straight through his boxers, her arms tight as she devoured his very essence. He took her hot nipple between his lips and she threw her head back, breathing out his name again. Hands molded to her torso, he sucked the sweet fruit as she quivered and quaked over him. He bit her gently, and she cried out, her fingernails deliciously scoring his shoulders. He wanted to make her come just like this, to bring her over with only his mouth and hands on her breasts.
“Sebastian, please.”
He knew she was close, almost there, her breath puffing from her lips, then a gasp. In one swift move, he trailed a finger between her legs. Her eyes fluttered open as she looked at him in luscious surprise at the exact moment that the tremors began to roll through her, her eyes closing as her hips rolled in a perfect rhythm of pleasure over his hand again and again.
God, she was beautiful.
Finally, she opened her eyes. He was so mesmerized by her sexy smile and the hot light in her eyes that when she slid her hand inside his boxers and engulfed him with her palm, he nearly came undone.
“Let me taste you,” she whispered. “I can’t wait any longer to taste you.”
He wanted her hands and mouth on him so badly that he surged out of the water and sat on the side of the tub before he could get his brain to start working again. Right then he didn’t care whether the time was right, whether the sale of the rams had anything to do with it, or whether the two of them might emotionally destroy each other down the road. All he cared about was having her mouth on him before he went mad with desire for her and took her right here, right now, in the hot tub, with her naked creamy skin against his and no protection anywhere in sight.
* * *
Sebastian’s torso was pure rippling muscle, so beautiful that Charlie’s chest tightened simply looking at him. Proud, hard, magnificent. And begging for her.
Or maybe she was the one begging for him?
Of course, when pleasure came this sweet, it didn’t matter who was begging, did it? She was smiling at the thought as she lowered her lips to him. His groan echoed into the night air as she tested, tasted, savored with her tongue.
His thigh muscles grew taut and his breath came out harshly, as if he’d been sprinting to get to her. She looked up into his beautiful tight features and reveled in the way she could make him feel, make him forget, make him want. And he wasn’t the only one panting—she was too, as she gave him what they both needed, taking him deep. Then deeper still.
She had done this before, but it had never been so right. Because the truth was that being with Sebastian was unlike any other relationship she’d ever had. So good that she wanted to drink in every ripple of power coursing through his body, every harsh intake of breath, every rumble and groan. She loved tasting him on her tongue, loved grasping his hard flesh in her palm, loved knowing that she was giving him so much pleasure with her intimate kisses—just as much as he’d given her. She was utterly lost to the joy of loving Sebastian when his body arched and his hips moved in rhythm with her as he shouted out her name to the night sky above him.
Moments later, he was sliding back into the water and reeling her in with his arm around her shoulders, pulling her face into his deliciously salty skin. She licked him, adding the new taste to the heady ambrosia.
“You’re incredible.”
She smiled at him from within the circle of his arms, her body sated from his touch, the hot water turning her languid, his arm around her both comforting and sensual. “So are you.”
Tonight had been perfect. Yes, she’d had a gut-twisting moment when she’d read through the contract, and another even bigger one when she’d signed it. And perhaps she was still more than a little worried about having to transform herself for the party at the hotel where they’d unveil her rams. But she wouldn’t think about any of that now, would just keep telling herself it was completely natural to feel twinges of terror here and there as her art began to find its home outside of her yard.
Right now, all she wanted was to focus on the incredible pleasure that she and Sebastian had just found in each other’s arms. Pleasure so sweet that her insides were still spinning from it. And there was so much more waiting for them the moment they were both ready to take the next step. They wanted the same thing—that when they finally made love, it would be exactly that.
Love.
She was so close to that already. Almost to the point of fully trusting Sebastian with her entire heart...just as she hoped he’d trust her with his.
When he tightened his arms around her in the hot tub and they said the word at the same time—“Soon”—she knew it wouldn’
t be long before she trusted Sebastian with so much more than just her art and her career.
With absolutely everything.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The following morning, Charlie bypassed her workshop and headed straight for Sebastian’s waiting car. Though they were going to Shady Lane to see her mom, she couldn’t help the delighted, slightly wicked smile at the memory of last night—his touch, his taste, his splendor, and everything that was growing between them moment by moment.
“I’m happy to see you too, Charlie.” He followed up his sweet words with a kiss that left her as breathless as if she’d just gone for a morning run.
A large box sat on the seat beside him. “Another gift for my mother?”
He grinned. “I enjoy giving her gifts. I hope she likes it.”
“I can’t imagine you doing or giving her anything she wouldn’t love.” Like mother, like daughter. It was enough that he gave her mother his time, but of course Sebastian always wanted to do more. “You’re going to spoil her at this rate.”
“Good. She deserves it.”
She tried not to take his words as a condemnation of the little she’d been able to do for her mother, especially when he tucked her hand into his in the front seat of the car. Guilt, however, immediately reared its ugly little head, adding to her tension over today’s meeting with the doctor Sebastian had brought in. She didn’t want to make the mistake of getting her hopes up, but it was hard not to. Especially when she knew just how badly Sebastian wanted to make a difference in her mother’s life. She hoped he would soon realize he already had, simply by offering his time so willingly.
She was actually quite nervous by the time they entered the nursing home. A tall, white-haired gentleman she knew didn’t belong at Shady Lane strode toward them with a confident gait.
“Dr. Hillman.” Sebastian shook the other man’s hand. “I’m Sebastian Montgomery, and this is Charlie Ballard, Francine’s daughter.”
